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Sunday, March 29, 2009

We were able to attend the Mozart Concert Dinner this past week at Stiftskeller St. Peter. Founded in the year 803 -- not even 1803 -- the Stiftskeller is the oldest restaurant in Europe. Isn't that crazy?

The layout of the concert dinner goes like this: appetizer, music, soup, music, main course, music, dessert, music. This means that, in between courses, you're serenaded by a string quintet and 2 opera singers, performing original Mozart compositions in traditional costumes. The entire event lasts a little over 2 hours. I highly recommend it.

If I ever go back, I'll take better photos but this one will have to do for now:

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

The day after Roman's big surprise, we woke up at 7:30 to go skiing in Mühlbach am Hochkönig. We caught the 7:50 bus to the train station, took the train to Bischofen and then another bus to Mühlbach (Sergio and Alberto, that is; Roman was staying in Salzburg with his parents). Caroline and I sometimes feel like they are our 'Spanish brothers' because they act like older brothers; they are only a few years older but they take such good care of us. For instance, Alberto bought my train ticket, and Sergio bought my breakfast. They do these things all the time and expect nothing in return, though we do offer.

Here's a fun fact for you to process as you read this story: I've not been skiing in about, oh, 9 or 10 years. The last time I went skiing was 6th grade, if I am not mistaken. Also, my ski experience consists of bunny slopes and green slopes and a total of one blue slope (which I probably skied down by mistake). I am usually perfectly content not being challenged by difficult slopes. I assumed that the boys would let me do my own thing while they skied the European equivalent to the black slope. Instead, they let me ski a few times down the easiest slope (and yes, I fell a few times), and then they told me it was time to 'step it up'. I am very scared of heights, and there were a few times when I would stand at the top of the slope, looking down, and honestly feel like I was going to throw up. Sergio and Alberto were so patient. Sergio is actually a certified ski instructor. Alberto is technically a beginner, as this was only his 7th time in a few months to ski, but you would never guess it.

My dad always told me how dangerous skiing can be (which I fully believe) and that he wasn't worried about me doing something stupid, but another skier doing something stupid and crashing into me or hurting me, etc. I thought about this a few times while skiing, but Sergio and Alberto were very conscious of this, too. As we progressed to harder and harder slopes, Alberto would ski backwards down the slope and Sergio would always ski behind or around me to make sure that no one was getting in my way. After a few hours, and some minimal progress, they made me ski down a Level 4 slope, and when I saw the sign, I started panicking and saying, "I can't, I can't, it's too steep, I can't do it." Sergio told me, "You only say you can't because you think you can't. The skis don't control you; you control the skis." He was full of fun motivational speeches like this one, but apparently they worked, because I skied down the 4 without falling.

As we progressed to harder levels, I did start to fall. One of my falls was really, really bad; I fell flat on my face, and the first thing I did when I sat up from the fall was touch my nose to see if it was broken (one of my biggest fears is re-breaking my nose because they say that if you break it once it's only a matter of time before you break it again). When I fell, I hit my face so hard, but amazingly, nothing happened. Well, my pants fell down (I was wearing Roman's clothes, and they did not even fit me a little bit) but if that's the worst thing that happened, I can handle that. Also, did I mention I was wearing a black leotard underneath my ski outfit?

Despite that fall, Sergio did not 'baby' me at all. He would never help me up when I fell and anytime Alberto would try to help me up or help me take off my skis, etc., Sergi would say "No, she needs to learn how to do it in case she gets separated from us and we are not there to help her". Every time I fell, they would stop and wait for me to get back up and I would always apologize for slowing them down. Sergi kept saying to me, "Stop apologizing. I don't want to hear it." and Alberto would say, "It happens every day. In every moment, someone falls down on the slopes somewhere." Interesting logic, Alberto, but thank you.

I kept telling them to let me ski a slope on my own so they could go on to the harder slopes since I was burdening their time. Sergio kept refusing and saying that he is a ski instructor and this is his job, etc. Finally, after I skied a number of slopes without falling down, they sent me down an easier slope by myself. Before we parted ways, Sergio pulled out a map and showed me 4 times which slope I was to go down and where they would meet me. He then made me take out my cell phone to show him that I had it so I could call him if I got lost and made me repeat to him the number of the Austrian ambulance system. I laughed at this but later I realized it was actually a smart idea and probably something my dad would do. Skiing down the slope by myself was my favorite part of the afternoon. It was so peaceful and I loved being able to go at my own pace and not worrying about slowing anyone down. I skied down the slope successfully -- no falls whatsoever! When I met up with them later, they told me that the slope they went down (the hardest one, probably) was super icy. The sun was setting, so the powder wasn't as soft and they said it was almost like skating on pure ice. Thank goodness I didn't have to deal with that. I would have died.

We were so incredibly tired after the long day of skiing, so when I stepped off the bus on en route to the train station too early and had to run after the bus to get back, I was not amused.

Now, days later, I am still SO SORE. I knew I'd be sore but I had forgotten the toll it takes on your body. Walking up the flights of stairs to my room in I.K. takes a little more time than it should now....

Moral of the story: next time, I'm making Caroline come with me.

Alternate moral of the story: daaaaaang, Austrian kids can ski. They learn to ski before they can walk, I'm sure of it.

Monday, March 23, 2009

This past weekend, since I didn't end up going to Croatia, I had the opportunity to go skiing with the Spanish boys. I didn't have any ski clothes, so Alberto told me I could borrow Roman's. I asked why Roman wouldn't be needing them and he said, "Well since his parents are coming, he won't be going skiing with us." I ran upstairs to ask Roman if I could borrow his clothes and met him at the top of the stairs. Alberto was at the bottom of the stairs, and this was our conversation...

Me: Hey, since you're not going skiing, can I borrow your clothes?

Roman : I am going skiing, but you can wear my clothes; I probably have some extras somewhere.

Me: Oh, I thought your parents -- [Alberto clears throat repeatedly and I glance to the bottom of the stairs and see him, out of Roman's sight, waving his hands wildly at me and mouthing 'NO, NO, NO, NO, IT'S A SURPRISE.'] -- I mean, my parents... my parents are coming.

Roman: Okay... When?

Me: Um, April 3rd.

Roman: Oh. Cool....

Me: Yeah, I just wanted to let you know so you could be sure and meet them. Okay, I'm going to go back downstairs now. [I run downstairs and Roman stares at me, so confused.]

Turns out, Alberto assumed that I knew about the surprise as he and Sergio had been planning it for quite sometime. Luckily for me, his parents were only minutes away from I.K., so he didn't have time to figure it out. Sergio had picked them up from the train station and brought them back to I.K. They started singing the Spanish national anthem and clapping as they walked into Roman's room (which, by the way, is so funny to imagine in contrast with how weird this would be if an American family did it -- but for them, it was totally normal and charming). He was shaving in the bathroom and when he came out, he was shocked but so excited.

Alberto had been preparing a big lunch for the 5 of them and they insisted that I join! They made a pot of beans which they poured over bread and onions, which sounds strange, but it was delicious. Caroline and I figured out how to make Kaiserschmarnn recently so I asked if that could be our dessert and we whipped some up! Roman's parents loved it! They don't speak much English, so we spoke Spanish the whole time and I told Roman's mother that Roman's English has improved immensely since I first met him. She looked at me funnily and then after a moment said "Ohhh, Roman Chico!" (Roman Jr.) Come to find out, his dad's name is also Roman, so she was really confused. I can only imagine how awkward that sounded when I told her husband's English had drastically improved in the one hour that I'd known him.

The best part of the day, though, was when Roman said to me, "Now I know why you said that to me upstairs. After you walked down the stairs, I thought to myself 'I cannot imagine why she said that to me'. "

Saturday, March 21, 2009

It's Saturday morning, the sun is shining, and it's 50 degrees Fahrenheit outside. This is a first. What do we even do with this kind of weather? I'm going to miss the winter wonderland that greeted us when we all moved in, but at the same time, I can't wait for picnics by the Salzach and pool parties at our pool (yes, I.K. has a pool).

Here is a photo of the warmer weather we've had this week, taken on our walk to class:

Speaking of snow, I'm going skiing with the Spanish boys today while the rest of the group is in Croatia. Wish me luck -- I just may need it...

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

I don't think I've ever really celebrated St. Patrick's day before, so I'm not sure how much it means to deem this 'the best St. Patrick's day ever', but all future St. Patrick's Days will have a hard time comparing with this one, I can tell you that much.

The Irish pubs here go all out, as you can imagine. They serve green beer, play Irish music, and are generally packed to the brim with green-wearing patrons. I wore my green H&M dress and Sandy wore her green earrings. She also brought her (green) boyfriend Blair, who was visiting from OSU on spring break. We love Blair (well, obviously Sandy does), and were so happy to introduce him to the city. We stopped by O'Malley's, Shamrock, and Republic (all 3 of which I'd recommend on St. Patrick's Day, or really any day of the year). After we'd tired of the crowd, Caroline and I headed to a Heimbar studentenfest at Humboldt. I had never been there, but that was just as fun as the pubs. And since Humboldt is just down the road from I.K., we walked home along the snow-covered path next to the Salzach, which, in case you are wondering, was just as magical as it sounds.

This is going to be one of those nights I look back on after all of this is over and want to re-live. Probably because I already want to re-live it now and it's been 1 day.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

2. The amazing view from our hotel room. Even though it was cloudy the whole time, we didn't care.

3. The hotel's complimentary breakfast buffet; each morning of our stay Caroline and I made a habit of eating not one, not two, but three whole plates of food.

4. Sleeping on the whole bus ride there and back.

5. Declaring the weekend "recovery weekend" and retreating to hotel room early each night to lay in the hotel bed with Caroline eating bags upon bags of flaxseed cookies (the 4 hours of sleep I got in Barcelona nearly killed me). We slept 12 hours each night and it felt so good. Dare I say I am back to my old self again?

7. Bundling up in the coat my mom sent me from home -- the coat that made it around the world and back again, since the USPS sent it to Australia, and then had the audacity to argue with my mom over whether or not Austria is really a country.

8. Visiting Schloss Schönbrunn with the group and taking that iconic red-coat picture with Kayla in front of it.

9. Shopping at Vero Moda with Caroline.

10. Stopping at a pay-for-what-you-get buffet restaurant on the way back -- the kind where they base your final price on how much food is on your plate -- and watching the look of horror spread across Tim's face when he realized his plate came to a total of 33 euro 50. He was under the (very false) impression that it was just a run-of-the-mill 'all you can eat' buffet, and for that reason, he loaded his plate with a mountain of food atop of which he scattered 4-7 fried shrimps, of all things, for a garnish effect. He couldn't put any of the food back, either, once it was on his plate. I'm pretty sure some of us had to lend him money....and I'm also pretty sure this was the highlight of the weekend for all of us, except maybe Tim.

Monday, March 16, 2009

In between Salzburg and Vienna, there is a monastery called Stift Melk. We stopped there on our way to Vienna this past weekend. The cathedral is glitzy and glam; we call churches like that "bling churches" because we are very well-educated and overall, just, the most articulate people you will meet. In seriousness, this sight is a must-see, in part because the view from the top of the monastery is terrific, but mostly for the library! The library is straight out of Beauty and the Beast, and its ceiling is an optical illusion; painted to look like a dome, but, in reality, totally flat. I could go on, but I'll let the pictures speak for themselves...

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Caroline and Fio picked me up at the Barcelona train station, just as planned and promised. We had a great late-afternoon/early-evening and an even better night. We ate dinner at L'orgosmic -- a restaurant that, sadly, is going out of business soon. It wasn't "best meal of the trip" status, and certainly didn't compare to Organic is Orgasmic, but it was good nonetheless. The water spoke only Spanish and not a bit of English. When he realized we were 3 American girls, he seemed a little stressed. But when he realized I could speak Spanish with him, he gave me my meal and water free of charge! (Maybe that's why they're going out of business...?)

Between that and miraculously being able to exercise my one semester's worth of French with some Belgium guys we met just across the street form our hostel, I was feelin' pretty good!

Oh, and -- we had the creepiest hostel experience that ended up taking a surprisingly great turn. We were staying in an 8-bed room that turned out to be a co-ed room. There was a middle-aged man staying in our room with us that had a bit of a staring problem. But when we realized he was laying on his lower bunk, angling his head and contorting his body in such a way so as to see up the skirt of our friend Fio, we bolted from the room and asked the manager if we could be placed elsewhere -- anywhere. To our surprise and delight, we were moved to a private cabana, just the 3 of us girls. It was just about the best way that hostel horror story could have ended...

The good vibes came to a screeching halt on Monday, though -- one of the longest days of my life that involved 11 hours of brutal travel. It wouldn't have been so bad had we not gone to bed at 2:00 and woken up at 6:00... Our journey home to Salzburg consisted of: walk to the metro, metro to the bus station, bus to the airport, fly to Linz, bus to the Linz train station, train ride to Salzburg, bus ride to I.K. I almost keeled over about 1,000 times.

I really did have a good time in Spain but there is a reason I am living in Austria; I just can't imagine being anywhere else. I find myself wishing there were more hours in a day and more days in a month, because our time here is passing way too quickly. I'm already working on a plan to stay beyond this semester.

All of that, aside, though, the month of March is shaping up to be a really good one. I am giddy with excitement.

Quote of the day: "I'm going to kiss the ground the moment we get to Salzburg." -- an empty promise I made in a moment of delirium during our day of endless travel

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

We woke up bright and early so JC and Hunt could show me around in Valencia. After we spent a few hours walking around, we ate some falafel, obviously. It was just what I wanted.

All day long, JC & Hunt were constantly asking me, "Are you doing okay? Do you want to see this? Do you want to see that? Do you need to stop and use the bathroom? Do you need to stop and get some water?" At one point, they got a bit mixed up with their navigation and they would not stop apologizing about the round-about way in which they were leading me: "We are so embarrassed; we've made you walk so far, we are so sorry."

After a great day of sight-seeing and enjoying each other's company, we decided to stay in that night and cook dinner and watch The Office on DVD. They offered me any of their food and drinks and were constantly asking if I needed anything else, or if I was having fun, or if I wanted to do something else, etc. At one point, they were talking about basketball for a significant amount of time and I was sitting there, somewhat uninterested, and they said, "We are so sorry; you didn't come here to listen to us talk about basketball."

After spending the whole day outside walking around, it was nice to stay in and relax. We sat on their pull-out couch (which had been made into my bed) and watched a few episodes of The Office. Then came the highlight of the trip: We Skyped with Kaitlyn!!!!!!!! JC, Kaitlyn, and I were all 3 best friends at OSU. It felt unfair

to be spending so much time with him when she wasn't with me. So, Skyping with her was such a treat. Of course when it came time for bed, they both asked me 100 times if I had enough blankets and pillows, or if the temperature was alright, etc.

The next day, we woke up early and went to the beach! It was so hot outside and I should have brought a swimsuit. I had asked JC ahead of time if I should bring one and he told it was way too cold. Cut to the 3 of us on the beach -- JC and Hunt in their swimsuits and me in a sweater and black skinny jeans. It was fine, though; we spent our time there lying around in the sand and it felt so strange to see the sun shining. I haven't seen the sun in weeks.

I had to catch a 2:00 train back to Barcelona, as I was spending Sunday night there with Caroline and Fio. We sort of got carried away at the beach; it was so nice and we were so relaxed that before we knew it, it was 12:45. We ran to the bus stop and caught the bus back into town and headed to their flat so I could gather up my things. On the way from their flat to the train station I realized that I had left my coat in their living room. I, of course, hadn't needed it in Spain, but I would need it as soon as I got to Austria. Hunt told me not to worry and he turned around and ran (literally) back to their flat, retrieved the coat, and then ran to the metro station; he met up with us just in time.

The metro there runs every 20 minutes (as opposed to most cities where it runs every few minutes) and we were literally seconds too late for the metro. We didn't have 20 minutes to spare and it would take too long to walk to the train station. I began to panic a little bit and Hunt and JC told me not to worry, that we would all take a cab together and they would get me on the train by 2:00. I kept apologizing and telling them they shouldn't have to pay for my cab and they told me it was the least they could do and that it was their fault for not planning the day better. They hailed a cab and we got to the train station with 5 minutes to spare. I bought my ticket (which was only 20 euro this time, thankfully) and hugged them goodbye very quickly. I ran through security and got on the train just in time.

On the train ride back to Barcelona, I took pictures through the window as we flew past the beach, and reflected at how kind JC and Hunt been to me all weekend and how nice it is to have friends as good as them. They are coming to Salzburg at the end of the month, though, and I cannot wait. I hope to repay the favor to them and give them just as good of a time. Although if I know Salzburg, I daresay their time will be even better...

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

I had to leave Caroline by herself in Barcelona; I and plans to travel by train to Valenica to see JC & Hunt and Caroline's friend Fio was flying into Barcelona at 6:00 P.M. I only left her alone for a short while.

We parted ways and I took the metro to the train station, but when I got to the Barcelona train station, however, the day took a turn for the worse. First of all, anyone who tells you can you go to Europe speaking only English is either lying to you, or they must have had some pretty fortunate experiences with whom they interacted. No one that I came into contact with in Barcelona spoke English. At all. Thank goodness my Spanish has improved so much since I've been here (thanks to Sergio and Roman and Alberto), because I had to speak it non-stop at the train station. I walked up to the ticket counter to buy my ticket for the 5:30 train to Valencia. I had told JC & Hunt to be at the Valencia airport at 8:30, and wasn't planning on using my cell phone to call them (I am on an Austrian pay-as-you-go plan, so calling a Spain number would be very expensive).

I got to the train station at 5:00 and when I approached the counter to buy my ticket, saw that the 5:30 train was sold out. So was the 6:30 train. So was the 7:30 train. There was an 8:00 train, so I told the man I'd like to take that train to Valencia. These tickets are usually around 20 euro. He told me the total was 50 euro. When I asked why it was so expensive, he said that 2nd class was sold out and only 1st class was available. The 8:00 train put me in Valencia at 11:30. I didn't want to take any later trains, in the event that I had to walk somewhere and find JC & Hunt, so I paid the 50 euro, but I was on the verge of tears because I'm on a tight budget and had only planned to spend 20 euro. I took my ticket, saw that the platform number was 11, and walked over to the platform. Most train stations in Europe are pretty relaxed. However, after the Madrid station was bombed a few years ago, Spain has completely transformed their train stations. You have to go through 2 security checkpoints to board your train, which means that you cannot access your train platform until 30 minutes before your flight. I didn't realize this, and when I tried to go through security, they saw that my train was leaving in 3 hours, and told me I couldn't access the platform. As this conversation was all in Spanish, I panicked slightly, but then understood. That meant that I had 3 hours to aimlessly wonder through the train station. Not fun. I knew I needed to call JC & Hunt and let them know that they should not be at the train station at 8:30, but rather 11:30. I called both of their phones repeatedly but they didn't answer. The fact that I couldn't get a hold of them, combined with the 50 euro ticket, combined with 3 hours of waiting until my train -- all of that put me on the verge of tears.

I finally just walked to a book store in the station and sat down and read (it would have been more comfortable to buy the book and sit in the first class lounge but I refused to do so, as I had just spent more on my one-way ticket then I was expecting to spend on the round trip ticket). In the time I was sitting there, I finally reached JC & Hunt; I explained the circumstances and they assured me they would be at the Valencia station in time to retrieve me.

8:30 finally rolled around, and as I boarded the train, I realized first class wasn't so bad (and maybe I should fly first class more often?). They played The Family Stone, since the train ride was 3 and a half hours long, which I refused to watch a) because it isn't Christmastime and b) because it was in Catalan and I can't afford to fall in love with a new language right now. Catalan is pretty different than Spanish. Sergio, who was born and raised in Spain, met a girl the other day from Spain who spoke Catalan. They tried to talk to each other and he told me neither of them had any idea what the other was saying. However, after a few minutes of refusing to watch the movie, I gave in; comparing every line to Spanish and analyzing the difference in pronunciation, etc. This exercised my brain just enough to put me to sleep. I woke up before the train rolled into Valencia and I became so excited to see my friends.

I stepped off the train and ran to the front of the station. After a few minutes I spotted JC & Hunt (it was not hard, as JC was wearing an OSU orange beanie with basketball shorts and Hunt was wearing a track suit -- they didn't exactly blend right in). It was so so nice to be reunited with my friends.

They took me to their flat (they live with a French boy named Will and a French girl named Marian; their roommates are super nice and I loved meeting them). They called their friends from Holland to come over and meet me, too. I could tell that JC & Hunt were both so excited to see a familiar face, just as I was to see theirs. JC told me, "You have no idea how nice it is to see you. We have been dying for some American interaction". Apparently, both of them (neither speak Spanish very well and JC actually refuses to learn, which should surprise no one who knows JC) have been struggling with the lack of efficient communication with other people, as you can imagine; they have their 2 roommates and a few friends they've met in class, but aren't guaranteed easy communication with any of them, as everyone's English is pretty limited there.

Anyhow, they made me feel welcome and had blocked off the entire living room area as my 'sleeping quarters' and I fell fast asleep, ready to sight-see all over Valencia in the morning!

Monday, March 9, 2009

Caroline and I woke up so at 5:00 on Friday morning to catch a train to Linz, followed by a bus to the airport, followed by a plane to Barcelona. On Thursday night, we had tried to get in bed early, but were so excited about our trip that we ended up staying awake until past midnight, talking for hours on end. Our 2 twin beds are pushed together to make one big bed and this has proven to be to our detriment, as sometimes, we just can't stop talking...

Suffice it to say, we were exhausted by the time we made it to Barcelona Friday afternoon, but all of that was remedied and then some when we ate at Organic is Orgasmic -- my new favorite restaurant in all of Barcelona. We paid 10 euro to eat as much as we wanted, except it's not a 'buffet' style -- you actually order plates of food, and as much of it as you want. It was so fresh and I can't even begin to recount all the amazing things they put before us... of course, we ate every last bit. I already cannot wait to go back.

It's open from noon to midnight and the address is: Junta de Comerc 11, Barcelona 08001.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

This past weekend, we went to Munich! It was a day trip; we left at 9:00 AM and returned after midnight. We almost couldn't stay awake on the train ride back -- we were so exhausted.

We all had Bayern tickets, so we traveled around in groups of 5. Sandy and I joined with Robert, Tim, and Chris O'Connor. We ate a lot of good food, sampled a lot of good beer, and walked continuously for 12 hours straight. During this time, we experienced our fair share of 'culture shock' amongst some rowdy Germans; one group of boys stepping onto the train at 11:00 AM, liters of beer in hand, and another woman so abrasive and large that Sandy gasped as she walked past us, "I feel like she could have crushed me with her fingers!"

The reason I was most excited about returning to Munich was to visit the University of Munich and see the Geschwister Scholl Platz honoring Sophie and Hans Scholl, members and founders of the White Rose Nazi Resistance Movement. I have such a fascination with them and it was so incredible finally getting to do this.

'Geschwister Scholl' means the 'Scholl siblings.' If you're not familiar with the story, I'll briefly explain: the brother and sister pair founded the White Rose Movement in 1942, a non-violent group of 5 college students at Uni. Munich who wrote 6 anti-Nazi brochures and secretly distributed them throughout Munich. The first 5 were successfully distributed in secret, but during the distribution of the 6th, Sophie was caught and arrested, along with her brother Hans and fellow group member Christoph Probst. Their goal was to expose the Nazis, and they were convicted of high treason and executed by guillotine just a few hours after their conviction.

At Uni. Munich, you can see the following tribute, directly outside the building where they were arrested, honoring Hans (age 24 when arrested; his last words spoken as the guillotine came down were "Lang lebe Freiheit!" which means "Long live freedom!), Christoph (age 23 when arrested; he had a wife and 3 children) and Sophie (age 21 when arrested; the only girl among the group).

I don't know why more people don't make this a priority in Munich. It's chilling.